


Talking to the Moon

by mulderbaby



Series: Fictober 2020 [7]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fox Mulder Angst, Hurt Dana Scully, Hurt Fox Mulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulderbaby/pseuds/mulderbaby
Summary: Fictober Day 16Prompt: “this, this makes it all worth it.”
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Fictober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980989
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Talking to the Moon

He'd made mistakes. Lots of them.

He'd hurt the feelings of people who didn't deserve it. He'd lied to save his own skin. He'd said things he didn't mean, and done things that riddled him with guilt for days after.

He'd threatened people's lives. He'd kept secrets that people deserved to know.

He'd made mistakes. Lots of them.

But never in his wildest of dreams or worst of nightmares did he think it possible to make a mistake so devastating as the one he made in trusting Duane Barry on that fateful evening two months ago. Two months that had felt like a lifetime and a half gone by right before his eyes.

Tonight, he'd fallen to his knees and cried up to the moon like a beast in the night.

Scully was the moon. She always had been. She was the moon, the beacon of light, of all that was good in the world, the one who cured him of total darkness. So he prayed to her, believed in her. In her strength and relentlessness in everything she did. Hoped that even after two months with no sign of her, no suggestion that she may one day be returned to him, that she may be on the other side after all, listening to his prayers, talking to him too.

Two months without her. Without this woman who had so selflessly put her job, her dignity, her very life on the line to help him chase his truth.

It wasn't until he lost her that he realized the truth he was looking for had been right there beside him all along.

•••

Sleep had become a stranger to him. And when it did come around, it was a guest of the most unwelcome kind.

When he slept, there was no escape from the terrors which threatened every day to swallow him while. No escape from the way her blood-curdling screams rang in his ears. No escape from the images of her struggle, her unrelenting agony that flashed before his eyes, jolting him awake with tears rushing down his cheeks and the knife of remorse, of irrevocable guilt, lodged in his chest.

And so he would sit alone on his couch, up all night, the light from the moon pouring into his little mess of a space he called home. He would sit there alone, talking to the moon, bargaining with it for the strength to see another day.

•••

He looked in the mirror and hated what he saw. Who he saw. Hated with every fiber of his being this miserable stranger he'd become.

He looked in the mirror, and the man he saw on the other side filled him with rage, with hurt, his blood boiling at the very idea that he could be capable of such a selfish crime.

He looked in the mirror and wondered what had gotten into him that made him feel as though it was his god given right to put her in danger for the sake of some futile conquest for answers time and time again.

He'd dragged her into this mess. Into his life. And now all he could do was look in the mirror at this man in front of him who he no longer recognized. This pathetic, selfish man who failed to protect the woman he claimed to care about, to love, more than anything or anyone in the world.

And now she'll never even know.  
He prayed to the moon again that night, to her. Scavenging for any light she had left to offer him. But the moon had begun to wane/wax, and along with it his hopes that she would one day return to him.

•••

They've returned her, but she isn't here.

They've returned her, so weak, so frail, so devoid of life. This is not the Scully he knows, not his Scully. It couldn't be.

But it was. She'd been returned, but she wouldn't return to him, even if she did come out of this.

He'd done this to her. He'd neglected to be there for her, failed to keep her safe that night. And now, if she did wake up, he wouldn't let her make the mistake of trusting him again.

And so he disappeared into the night, looking up into the sky for the light of the moon to guide him home, the moon which had been his window to her. He searched the stars above, for a sign, for even the smallest sliver of hope, but the moon was in hiding tonight.

Tonight, there would be no talking to the moon. But she was somewhere out there, his Scully. However far away, he knew it to be true.

•••

He'd lost track of the hours that had gone by since he'd left the hospital for what he knew would likely be the last time.

He'd failed to acknowledge that the sun had vanished into the evening horizon, now replaced by the moon. The moon whose light flooded in through the window and into his apartment.

His apartment, which had never felt colder than it did right now. His apartment, torn apart, vandalized by the same monsters who had taken Scully from him.

He'd lost track of the hours that had gone by as he sat there on the hardwood floor, tears streaming down his face as he hoped, prayed up to the moon, as he'd done so many night before. The moon, which had once again begun to glow so steadfastly in the sky above, to Scully, and to a god he didn't believe in, for the most implausible of miracles.

•••

He hadn't left her side since he got the call.

He'd given her mother and sister the courtesy of spending the days with her, but when night would fall, it was he who stayed by her side. He who watched over her as she slept so peacefully, her mind and body plagued with the exhaustion of the previous months, bogged down by the horrors she had undoubtedly endured in her time away.

She barely spoke, her voice weak and her mind drained of coherent thought for the time being. She spent most of her time in a deep sleep, as she was now, but she was here, alive before his eyes against all odds, and he would never let her out of his sight again.

Tonight, as he sat there beside her, talking to the moon which flooded her hospital room with its enduring light, bargaining with it to hear her voice again, to see the light put back in her sapphire eyes, praying to it that they might one day look upon him with the same tenderness, the same compassion that they did all those months ago.

"Mulder?"

He felt the air leave his lungs as he looked down at her, his heart beating out of his chest as she reached for his hand.

"Scully?"

He couldn't believe his eyes as they beheld her. The color had begun to come back to her cheeks, her voice had grown stronger, and that infamous sparkle which he'd come to love so dearly had returned to her eyes once again as she gave him a sleepy smile.

"Mulder.." she squeezed his hand and he looked at her tenderly.

"How are you feeling?" He murmured, letting go of her hand momentarily to push a stray hair away from her face.

"I'd feel better if I knew you were getting some sleep instead of staying up all night talking to the moon like a crazy person."

Before he could respond, she was scooting toward the other side of the bed, making room for him, patting the space next to her. He smiled happily, tears welling up in eyes as he climbed beside her. She scooted against his side, hugging his middle, resting her head against his shoulder and shutting her eyes contently as he leaned down to press a kiss to her hair, wrapping a strong, protective arm around her shoulders.

"You know, Scully. Sometimes if you're really lucky, the moon talks back."

He felt her smile against his shirt.

"Mulder?"

"Hm?"

"You're crazy."

She teased, but hugged him tighter. He looked down at her, curled up against him as the light from the moon washed over their bodies, his lips curling up into a smile.

"You have no idea."

Maybe he was crazy. But here she was, whole, safe, and his.

This, he thinks, this makes it all worth it.

If crazy would keep her this way forever, he never wanted to know normal.

•••


End file.
